The Indian batsmen played like men expecting to fail. That is the effect this
superbly disciplined England attack has on its opponents.

They look harassed and forlorn, like a lame antelope being hunted down by a hungry pride of lions. They don’t know whether to run or hide, and end up doing neither.

They sense there is no means of escape and they are right. The result is already a foregone conclusion.

England bowl to carefully laid plans. They bowl in partnerships. All teams attempt to do this, of course. It is just that this England are exceptional at sticking to the programme devised for them by their bowling coach David Saker.

He would be the first to concede that. And none seek the limelight. They bowl for the team and do not begrudge each other’s success.

The only criticism is sometimes they appear a bit too pre-programmed and unable to act on instinct. They overdid the short ball to India's tail, and it became a touch predictable.

The situation was crying out for a quick yorker but that was not part of the plan.

It worked perfectly for the top order, though. After the almost absurdly tame dismissal of Virender Sehwag, they set about denying Gautam Gambhir and Rahul Dravid anything on their legs.

They stuck religiously to a channel they like to call ‘fifth stump’ (two stumps’ width wide of off stump).

It is a teasing line that says, ‘Come and get me!’ Provided the length is good, chasing such balls is a risk. An older generation of bowlers might have strived to bowl straighter, hoping for a smidgen of movement either way and some potential lbws, given Edgbaston’s traditional low bounce.

But this England do it their way. They know taking wickets in the modern game is about preying on a batsman’s patience rather than seeking magic balls.

Even batsmen as abstinent as Dravid cannot resist a tempting morsel eventually. He looks worn out by the remorseless persistence of Anderson and Co as they nag away, just waiting for a mistake. Eventually those mistakes came, though Dravid might fairly claim a touch of malice in the pitch too.

Sachin Tendulkar bats with a weariness in his body. That indicates a tired mind, ground down by the constant burden of expectation and more particularly by highly skilled bowlers with no apprehension regardless of an opponent’s name or rank. His feet do not move initially, and he appears to grope, blinking slightly as if searching for the ball.

Anderson is invariably deployed when he arrives and, with superb control, adheres to a miserly line and length, gifting him nothing.

He bounds in expecting to claim his scalp (which he already has seven times in eight Tests) and could have done twice in the space of eight balls here. Tendulkar looked hesitant and uncertain. He wafted at one ball without conviction.

Broad’s first ball to him from the newly named Birmingham end was widish and full. It did not require a shot. Tendulkar poked at it hopefully, unnecessarily, the weight not properly transferred, the bat face open.

The edge was pouched by Anderson. It was the third time in five innings he has been dismissed this way (the other two were lbws). By sticking to a repetitive plan, and believing in it, they have revealed his mortality.

The wicket of Suresh Raina was another example of England’s precision engineering. Anderson dismissed him at Lord’s with a peach from round the wicket that swung away from the left-hander and took the edge.

On Wednesday he concentrated for a few overs on a sequence of similar deliveries.

Just as Raina seemed to be getting to grips with this, Anderson slipped in the one that swings the other way. It slid through the gate and bowled him. Raina walked off with a resigned air, aware that his technique is suffering ritual dissection.

India are a bunch of individuals being hounded by an exceptional unit. They look shorn of confidence and self-belief. After five innings, India have not scaled 300, and nor, against this attack, do they look likely to.